There's Hope For You Yet
by alexiXlove
Summary: When Hopes parents are killed by Lord Voldemort, she is ushered into Hogwarts as a new 7th year student. Feeling left out and very much alone in the world, a certain raven haired boy could be the answer to her dwindling hope in anything anymore.
1. This can't be happening

Hope shifted uneasily in the straight backed wooden seat. She was determined to keep her eyes fixed on her Converses which her feet were so often clad in. She studied them carefully; desperate to find something else to focus on rather than what was happening to her. _This isn't happening_, she thought in pure desperation, _not really. It can't be, it doesn't make sense. _Hope knew that was a lie. It made perfect sense, really.

Her thoughts were broken by a soft cough. She looked up slowly towards the source of the noise, and her gaze fixed on a man she knew all too well. She smiled sadly as she looked at him and took him in. His long purple robes dashed with silver stars, the long silvery beard, and the half moon glasses she loved to see him wear. He smiled back at her, and tears immediately welled up in her eyes. She didn't know why the sight of him made her smile from happiness and cry from sadness at the same time. Maybe it was because she loved the way this man was, so kind and gentle, but she hated how he was the last link she had to her family anymore. The man, upon seeing her tears, quickly walked around the desk to her, and knelt down beside her.

"No," she said, swiping her tears away, "no, Uncle Albus, don't kneel down. You still have a bad back." She dropped her gaze back again to her dirty Converses. He gently tilted her head up again so that their gazes met.

"My bad back is the least of your worries, Hope," he said, a little too matter-of-factly for her liking.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered, looking away from him.

"Well, this is what's going to happen, if of course you agree. After all, you are of age," he replied, his voice warm and caring. "Tomorrow is the 31st of August, but the day after is the first of September and after all these years of hoping and wishing, your dream will finally come true. You will take the train from Kings Cross at 11am sharp, and arrive for your final year of magical schooling, and your first year of Hogwarts."

"Are…are…you're not pulling my leg are you?" she asked, looking at him with a quizzical expression.

"Trust me my dear, I would _never_ joke about something as important as this," he said, winking.

Hope couldn't help but smile, amidst all her tears and all her sorrow; she smiled a smile of complete joy and happiness. She quickly threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she exclaimed.

"Now, calm down just a moment, you didn't let me finish the reasoning behind your coming to stay here," he said, pulling away from her tight embrace, his face straight and serious. She looked back at him, her smile quickly fading from her face.

"I know why. He's after me, isn't he? You-know-who, he killed my parents tonight and now he wants to finish the job," she said her voice full of fear.

"Yes, and no," said Albus, "Voldemort does not know that you are alive. Nor did he ever. He came to your parents' house tonight, to kill them yes. However, in true Tom Riddle style he forgot to do his research, and therefore assumed that everyone who was in the house of your family was your entire family. However, that obviously was not the case, for here you sit before me. Alive and well."

"So he just came to my house and killed my parents, thinking that he had killed the whole family?"

"I believe so, yes." There was a pause, during which Hope was deep in thought. After a while she said, simply;

"But, why?"

"Why your family?" he asked her, and she nodded. He paused for a moment, obviously thinking of how to word what he was about to say. "Hope, are you familiar with prophecies, and how they work?"

"Yes, I am," she replied, wondering where he was going with this.

"Well, shortly before your parents got married, a prophecy was made. A prophecy concerning your family."

"Mine? Why the hell on earth would a prophecy be made about _my_ family? We're boring! Well, at least, we were…" she trailed off, feeling rather stupid for not remembering what happened tonight before she blurted that out as if she still had a family. She sighed.

"Well if you would let me finish, I would tell you. The prophecy said that your family would be the only people to know the secret to destroying a certain artefact. The destroying of this artefact is crucial, for its destruction will make sure that Voldemort can be killed. Of course, once Voldemort got wind of this, he had to do something about it. Voldemort had spent his life trying to make himself immortal, and your family is the only thing that can stop him from being so" he explained, in a calm tone that made it seem like destroying Voldemort was an everyday occurrence. _Perhaps it is_, she thought_, how much do I really know about my Godfather anyway? _But his continuation of explaining what had happened interrupted her thoughts;

"And that my dear, is where you come in" he said, placing a long finger on her forehead. She wrinkled her nose, like she always did when he did that. "You are the only remaining person from your family, due to the unfortunate circumstances. And so _you_ are the only living person who could possess the knowledge of how to destroy the artefact." She stared at her Godfather, and then looked away quickly.

"But," she started, looking at an interesting tapestry hanging on the wall, "But I don't know how to destroy whatever this is."

"You won't, not right now. Not until the right chain of events triggers the magic within you to know," he said knowingly. She looked at him, with doubt written all over her face. She didn't know whether to believe him and let fate do its dirty work, or laugh at him. Was there really magic within her that would spark and let her suddenly know how to destroy whatever this was? And what was with that anyway? Why would destroying some object kill Voldemort, huh?

She continued to wonder as she clambered into her bed for the night. Uncle Albus had taken her to a dingy house somewhere in London. It really was the most peculiar place; everywhere she looked there were snake ornaments or snake shaped things. It unnerved her, to be honest.

It was well past three in the morning, this she knew, for the last time she had checked the time it was half past two, and it was at least an hour after that, yet she could have sworn she heard voices up above her. She listened hard in an attempt to hear what they were talking about, but with no success. She was only able to gather that there were two boys and a girl, and their voices sounded worried.

Hope turned over and brought the sheets up so that they covered her entire body, leaving only her head exposed to the room. She thought about what had just happened, and for the first time tonight it really sank in. She had no family left; they had been murdered and she was the only one left. Hope buried her face in the musty smelling pillow, and cried. She cried well into the night, feeling so alone that words could not possibly describe it. She had lost all she had; she was perfectly alone in the world.

"Shh!" said Hermione urgently. "Can you hear that?"

Harry and Ron both, stopped and listened. It felt like they had been listening for at least five minutes before anyone spoke again.

"So, uh, what are we meant to be listening for?" said Ron, a little confused.

"Shh!" said Hermione again, more urgent still. "Can't you hear that? It's someone crying!"

"Crying?" said Harry inquisitively.

"Yes! Listen!" said Hermione again, and they sat in silence, listening. Sure enough after a few more minutes of silence, the faint sound of someone sobbing could be heard from the room below.

"Who d'you reckon it is?" said Harry, looking from Hermione to Ron. Both their faces showed clearly that they knew nothing.

"Your guess is as good as mine, mate," said Ron, who shrugged and returned to his card pyramid.

"Should we go and check it out? Make sure they are okay?" asked Hermione.

"No," said Harry defiantly, "Would you like someone walking in on you while you were crying?" he asked, more of a rhetorical question than anything else, but he knew Hermione would answer it anyway. She always did.

"No," she said, "No I suppose not." She looked severely disheartened by having to pass up this opportunity to help someone, but seemed to think it was the right thing to do for she fell silent after that.

Harry yawned widely, and to his shock she suddenly said "Finally! Now we can go to bed!"

Harry looked to Ron, who was looking back at him with a look that mirrored his perfectly, pure confusion.

"Hermione? What in hell?" Ron asked her, putting his palm to her forehead to add to the affect that she may be sick.

"Oh Ron, for goodness sake, don't do that, I do not have a fever," she said, slapping his hand away. He looked at her reproachfully clutching his hand in mock pain, "I was waiting for someone to yawn so that I had a reason to go to bed."

They looked at her blankly. Then Ron broke the silence.

"Girls are _really _weird," was all he said. Harry didn't feel the need to reply, or make any gesture to say that he agreed; there was no need, and Ron knew that he was thinking exactly the same thing anyway.

"Whatever," said Hermione in retaliation as she climbed into her bed, "Ron, if you snore loudly tonight, I may just have to hex you into next year, Right?"

"Err, yeah." He said, his ever present confusion dripping from his voice, "Err, Hermione? Why aren't you in your own room?"

"Because," she said shortly, "My room is being used, apparently by the sobbing person below. Honestly, Ronald, your skills of deduction leave a lot to be desired, and it's not as if you care that I'm sleeping in here anyway."

Harry smiled to himself as she climbed into his own bed and pulled the sheets up round him. He enjoyed seeing Hermione get one over on Ron, even if he never admitted it to Ron.

"Well, nobody thinks to tell me these things do they? I mean, there might have been a completely different reas-", Ron began, but Harry cut him short.

"Stop complaining, everyone knows you don't care. So shut up and go to sleep", he said, making sure that the pillow he threw at him was the most awful one he had within his reach. Ron spluttered as the moth eaten pillow hit him squarely in the face. Harry smiled in silent triumph but heard Ron muttering something that sounded rather like 'I don't care, don't know what they are talking about…honestly". Apparently Hermione had heard it to, for she very quickly said in her most strict of tones, "Would you just SHUT UP, Ronald?" making sure that her voice never came above a whisper. But Harry and Ron knew better than to mess with that tone, and quickly turned over in their beds.

Thoughts ran wild in Harry's mind that night before he finally drifted off to sleep. Thoughts of his ever closer return to Hogwarts filled his stomach with an air of excitement, but then the sobbing person below filled his mind. He felt guilty for not going down to check on whoever it was, he felt like he should have. But he had done the right thing not going to see who it was – would he like it if someone interrupted his crying? No, he wouldn't. Besides, he would find out who it was and whether they were okay tomorrow.

Hope tossed and turned in her sleep, her dreams haunting her, making her restless. She had cried herself to sleep, which only made her emotions worse. She continued to toss and turn, as a vision of what might have happened that night took over her dream and tuned it into a nightmare.

"_Run to the drawing room. NOW!" her father shouted, not angrily but with a voice full of concern at her mother, "You need to protect yourself! He knows!"_

"_But I have to stay and help! I can't let you face him alone, he's too powerful!" her mother replied, the same concern filling her voice._

"_And I couldn't stand it if I lost you, now GO! The drawing room! Quickly!" her father whispered hastily. Her mother looked gently into his eyes, silently begging for him to let her stay. Their silent conversation was interrupted however, by the crashing sound of a door being burst open below them._

"_Please, Georgia, go!" said her father, pleading with her mother. Her mother bent low and gave her husband a swift kiss._

"_I love you", she said, almost in a whisper, but Henry had heard it. She ran as quietly as she could into the drawing room on the floor above and nestled herself in a corner of the room, trying to conceal herself in the shadows, just in case. From below she could hear the muffled shouts of her husband, and the high pitched evil cackle of Lord Voldemort. She closed her eyes tightly and prayed, she didn't know who she was praying to, or what good it would do. But she needed an ounce of hope. A look of realisation spread across her face. Hope! She was at Gloria's house tonight, doing some extra work to give her a head start in the seventh year of education. What would happen to her if anything happened tonight to her and Henry? Would she have enough sense to go to her Godfather, Albus? Does Albus know what's happened? Surely not, if he did the whole of the order would be here now helping, she reasoned. She was jerked from her thoughts by a large crash coming from below._

_Voldemort laughed once more. "You actually think that I care that you want to live? You know something very important, and I need to make sure that only you know it. Now, is there anyone else here that knows it?" he asked coldly, staring down through his red slits at Henry Winters. The gaze was so intense that Henry could not say anything; he was lost within the cold evil that resided within those eyes. Voldemort's icy voice sounded again "Well?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly desperate, yet still cold as ice. Henry knew why he wanted them, they knew the last secret to his downfall, and only his family knew it. He thought about Georgia upstairs, and then about Hope. Oh Hope! What would she do if something happened to him? 'Keep yourself together man!' he scolded silently, 'Georgia will look after her!', But what if Georgia didn't survive either? Henry hoped she would have the sense to go to Albus._

_Another burst of that cold voice shook him from his deep thought, "WELL?" it shouted, and Voldemort slowly raised his wand to Henry's chest. Henry stared at it and then silently said, in a quiet voice._

"_No". Voldemort stared at him._

"_Well, Mr Winters, if you are going to lie so obviously to me and not even try to use occlumency, then you leave me no choice but to kill you. I could have simply cast a memory charm on you and your wife, who I am well aware, is upstairs in the drawing room, but you had to lie. So now, your time has come to an end, and you only have yourself to blame." Voldemort cackled loudly, before saying the words that Henry had dreaded hearing all of his life._

"AVADA KEDAVRA_!" A rushing sound filled the air, and a flash of green light was all anyone could see, and the last thing that Henry remembered. His body slumped lazily to the ground, and Voldemort sneered._

"_The drawing room", he said in his icy voice. His death eaters stood still, and Voldemort got angry. "NOW! SHE'S IN THE DRAWING ROOM! KILL HER!" he shouted in a rage._

_Georgia heard the footsteps coming up to the floor she was on. She heard the same footsteps walking across the landing and stopping outside the drawing room. She heard the handle of the door being turned, and yet still she hoped and prayed to whoever was listening that they weren't coming in there._

_The death eaters entered the room, 6 of them she counted, and crossed the room to where she was crouched in the corner._

"_So, Georgia, we meet again I see", said a cold and horribly familiar voice._

"_It appears so, Bellatrix," she replied, trying to keep her voice nonchalant._

"_You know, I've never liked you, Gee, you always were smarter than me, always prettier than me, always better than me. But now it seems the tables have turned. It seems that I am now in control over you, and you can't do a damned thing about it. _Accio Wand_", said the now de-hooded Bellatrix, and Georgia's wand slipped from her grasp and floated smoothly into Bellatrux's grip. Georgia sighed in defeat. She couldn't do anything to save herself now, her Hope was slipping away._

"_This is your end, dearest Georgia. _AVADA KEDAVRA_!", that same rushing sound that Georgia had heard coming from downstairs rushed through the room, and that bright flash of green was the last thing Georgia Winters saw before her life was taken from her body. Her limp, lifeless body slumped down the wall and onto the floor, staring into nothing._

_A large green skull, with a snake slithering from its mouth, was hovering above the Winters' home, waiting for a blissfully unaware Hope Winters to return the next morning._

Hope sprang upright in her bed, sweating all over. The details of her dream were slipping away, and she could not grasp onto them. She couldn't remember what she had dreamt about, but she knew that it must have been something completely terrible, to leave her in this state.

She looked nervously round her room, nobody was there to have woken her up; she must have done it of her own accord. The room was light, it must be morning. She glanced quickly at her watch, it read 6.15. Looking down at her sweating body, she sighed and decided a shower was definitely in order.

She collected a towel and her clothes, and ventured outside of her room. The house didn't look much different during the day, It was still dark and dingy, and still made her feel very unwelcome. She came to a door marked "Lavatory" and quickly slipped inside. Putting her things down on the toilet seat, she made her way over to the mirror above the sink, and looked sadly at her reflection. She didn't feel rested at all, and judging by her reflection she certainly didn't look it either. Her long deep brown hair hung dirty and un-brushed around her shoulders, her emerald eyes looked weary and tired. She sighed and turned on the shower, before undressing and stepping into the warm rainfall of water. She stood there for a moment, just letting the water cascade over her face and down her neck. She stayed in the shower for a long time, or longer than usual at any rate, perhaps she hoped the warm water would wash away her pain and loneliness, and when she emerged she would feel happy and okay again. But as she turned off the water sometime later, she knew that it simply wasn't the case. She wrapped herself in a towel, and grabbed her clothes. She decided that she would change in her room; she had spent maybe a little too much time in here. What if someone wanted to use the bathroom? She wondered if there was even anyone else in this house at the time, never mind anyone who would get up at this time. Heck, _she_ wouldn't have got up at this time, if it weren't for that stupid dream.

Her face fell slightly. That dream. What had it been about, and why did it cause her to have such a restless time of sleep?

She silently tip-toed across the landing and opened the door to her room, slipping inside quickly, and closed the door without looking around the room, an obvious mistake.

She turned around and squealed slightly, her godfather only chuckled.

"Calm down Hope, it's only me", he said in his soothing voice that she loved.

"Uncle Albus!" she said hastily, "I'm only wearing a towel!"

Albus chucked again, "Would you rather I stayed outside while you changed, and then came back in?" he said, smiling at her.

"Yes, if you don't mind", she replied, embarrassment dripping from her words. He silently got up off the bed his way to the door and opened it, but before closing it behind him he called "Just let me know when you are ready".

Hope dressed quickly in her oversized jeans and Ramones t-shirt, before calling him back in as she tied her hair in a ponytail, not bothering to dry it just yet.

"So", she began, turning to look at her Godfather, "What brings you here?"

"Well", he said brightly, "I'm going to tell you what the plan is for today". He gestured for her to sit down on the bed beside him. "Today, I am going to let you venture off to Diagon Ally on your own, and buy all your school things for Hogwarts. I've got your Hogwarts letter downstairs, and seeing as I am Headmaster I feel no obligation in giving it to you. Now, make sure you get everything while you are there, because you will be going to Hogwarts tomorrow morning." Albus grinned at the wide grin spread across her face, and felt bad for what he was about to say, knowing that the wide grin would slide off her face like melting ice. "There is something else I need to talk to you as well. Obviously, a funeral will be needed for your parents," he said softly, sighing slightly at the sight of the grin sliding off her face, just as quickly as he thought it would have, "But I do not want you to worry Hope, I will personally take care of it. There is no need for you to worry about a thing, is that okay?"

Hope looked up at Albus, she knew her face had dropped, but the soft look in her godfather's eyes cheered her up, if only slightly. "I hadn't even thought of the funeral", she said, sighing, "but now that I think about it, it was silly not to think of it. But I trust you Uncle Albus to treat them right, I can't say I'm looking forward to it, but I know that they are in good hands." She smiled up at him, trusting him completely. "But if you don't mind Uncle, I think I'm going to do my hair and make-up before I leave today, and I think I would prefer to do it alone" she said, perhaps a little brighter than usual.

Albus gave her a sceptical look, then said, "Alright then, but remember Hope, I'm always here for you, and I will look after you and keep you safe. You can come to me about anything."

She smiled at him again; both of them knew that if Hope ever had a problem _suitable_ enough to talk to Uncle Albus about, she would most certainly go to him. Other things however, she would have to find other people to talk to about, for she felt sure he didn't really want to hear about _those._

She got up off the bed and walked towards the door, opening it for him to leave through. Albus got up and walked towards her invitation to leave. "I will call in later to make sure you got everything okay, and then tell you about the arrangements for tomorrow." He said, just before walking through door. Once over the threshold and stood in the hall however, he turned quickly and looked at her kindly, "Hope," he said, getting her attention, "Call me Albus". He winked a goodbye before striding down the hall, his long silvery mane of hair billowing with his robes, out behind him


	2. First Encounter

Hope closed the door with a click and turned around to face her room. Her eyes drifted towards her trunk and she strode towards it. She looked at it for a moment, and noticed that the Hogwarts crest had been added to the trunk, and now sat alongside the Winters' family crest on the lid of the trunk. Hope smiled; she really was going to Hogwarts at last!

She pulled out her hairdryer and straighteners, and turned them on by a flick of her wand. She then began to get herself ready for the day ahead. She straightened her hair into its usual style, letting it flow around her shoulder elegantly, completely poker straight. After admiring the results, she pulled out her small make up bag and began to complete her morning getting-ready ritual, applying her eyeliner, eye shadow and mascara before stepping back from the mirror she was working in front of. Admiring the results she smiled, but then her face dropped again.

She thought she looked good; she didn't think she was the prettiest girl in the world but she still thought she looked okay. And yet, she was the only person she knew who had never been kissed. Sure, she had liked boys and some boys had probably liked her, but she had never once dated. She thought about her friends back in Ireland, and marvelled at how they always seemed to have someone. As soon as they would stop dating someone, they would go on to date someone else. She was always left alone and forgotten when boys came into the picture.

Hope sighed. Her friends. She would have to write to them later and tell them what had happened. None of them went to Hogwarts either; she studied magic with them at Gloria, her tutor's, house. She felt saddened that she would possibly never see them again, and felt more alone than she did last night. She really was perfectly alone in the world.

A surge of creativity went through Hope at that moment, and her gaze quickly fell on her acoustic guitar, sitting safely in its case beside her bed. She wanted to play so badly, but she didn't have the time. She needed to get to Diagon Alley as quickly as possible to be able to get all of her things, and a few more.

Making sure her Gringotts key was still on the necklace around her neck, she grabbed her money bag and stuffed inside her backpack. With one last look at herself in the mirror, she quickly grabbed her Converses and headed for the door to the landing. She looked around the landing again, feeling the familiar sense of unwelcoming coming from the house. She shivered and began to make her way down the stairs, tip-toeing the entire way just as Uncle Albus had told her the night before.

When she reached the last landing before the bottom, she got distracted from her quest to reach the bottom of the stairs without waking something. There were voices coming from a room at the end of the hall. Curiosity getting the better of her, she quietly walked along the landing towards the door that was concealing the source of the noise. After listening for a few moments, she realised that they were the voices she heard coming from the room above her the night before. They were arguing about something. Despite the pang of guilt that she felt from eavesdropping, Hope continued to listen to the heated conversation.

"For Merlin's sake Harry!" said Hermione in an exasperated tone. "What do I have to do to make you see that you have to come back!"

"You can't!" Harry replied angrily. "I've made my decision! Everyone at Hogwarts will be a lot safer without me there, and in case you had forgotten Hermione, I've got something a bit more important than NEWTs to think about this year!"

"Harry, mate," said Ron quietly, "Hermione's right, you need to come back. Even if you just do it for us. We would never be able to last a year at Hogwarts without you being there. And if you won't let us come with you to search for them, then you are forcing us to go there, without you."

Harry looked at his best friend, considering what he had just said. There was silence for a few moments before he finally said "You will be safe at Hogwarts. I need to do this by myself; I don't want to risk losing you two. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I got the two of you killed."

"But Harry, don't you see? We want to help you! Harry we _need _to help you!", said Hermione. She looked at him; the soft look in her eye made him feel guilty for leaving them behind. But he couldn't take them with him, it would be too risky, and he just couldn't risk going back to Hogwarts at jeopardising the safety of the one place in the world he had ever been able to call home. He couldn't do it.

"Harry, how many times do I have to tell you that Hogwarts has, and always will be the safest place in the world, with or without you there? Voldemort has been after you every year you've been in school, and Hogwarts has remained the safest place through those years. Don't make me go and get my copy of _Hogwarts: A History_, and read you the numerous chapters on its measures to make it safe." Hermione was practically shouting at him, but she was making sure her voice wasn't raised. It was the kind of lecturing telling off that he had always hated, and she knew it.

Harry sighed, Hermione was right as always. Hogwarts had stayed safe since his first year, and Voldemort had been after him then.

"And think of the resources there Harry, the library, the teachers, Dumbledore. The possibilities of help at Hogwarts are far less than those out there on your own." Hermione continued, and Harry knew she was right, "As much as you would love to believe it Harry, you can't do this on your own. You may be the only one with the power to do the final deed, but you can't do the rest on your own. You need the help Harry, and there are plenty of people ready and willing to give it to you if you would just stop being so noble and accept it! You are only human, Harry."

Hermione's words finished in his head, and he bowed his head. He knew she was right, and he knew Ron was too. How could he let them endure a year of Hogwarts without him? He wouldn't want one of them to do it to him. And Hogwarts _did _have the biggest library he had ever seen, and most of the Order was there. He couldn't ignore the facts; he would have to return to Hogwarts.

"Fine, I will go back," said Harry, "but don't expect me to work towards my NEWTs, I have more important things to worry about."

"That's the spirit!" said Ron brightly, clapping his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry smiled weakly.

"Excuse me", said Hermione in her best bossy tone, "But correct me if I'm wrong, but you weren't really going to work very hard towards them anyway, whether you planned to or not?" She gave them her best "I Told You So" look, and Harry and Ron both shrugged their shoulders at her.

"Gee, Hermione, you sure do hold us high with your expectations of us don't you?" said Ron in a very accusing tone.

"Don't try and deny it Ronald, you know I'm right" she replied, giving him a look that made Ron retreat quickly.

Harry's stomach began to rumble, and Ron laughed.

"Now that makes a change!" he said between breaths of laughter. Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"C'mon" she said irritably, "I'm sure your mum has started breakfast already, Ron."

They headed towards the door and left the room. Harry was last to leave the room, and was about to follow the other two down the landing when something in the shadows caught his eye.

Hope froze. He was looking straight at her, and he would surely not be very happy with her if he found out she had been eavesdropping on his conversation. She looked up at him and gasped. She had never seen this boy before in her life, and yet something stirred within her. She was feeling something she had never felt before; she thought this boy was _handsome_.

He was tall and thin, but not too tall nor thin as to be gangly; he was proportioned just right in Hope's eyes. Just right. His longish, messy raven hair gave him a rugged look that she just could not ignore, his emerald green eyes were holding her gaze with an overwhelming sense of curiosity and it made her melt. She ran her gaze over him, stopping to look at The Clash t-shirt he was wearing, and she gasped. Looking down to his feet, she saw that they he was wearing a pair of battered old black Converses. Hope was surprised she didn't faint from excitement right there and then. She looked over him once again, and her gaze came to rest on the thin scar on his forehead. She didn't spend too much gazing on this however, knowing that he probably didn't like people looking at it all the time. She herself had a scar on her side from an operation a few years previously, and she knew how nervous it made her feel to have people looking at it for longer than was necessary.

Hope had fallen down on the ground when they had opened the door to the room. Harry had extended a hand out to her to help her up, and she accepted his offer. Reaching out her own hand to grasp his, she felt in something of a fairy tale. His hand was rough, yet firm. Clearly this boy played Quidditch, her favourite sport. This boy had just risen above the top spot of her most perfect boy list. She felt giddy and excited, but tried to hide it. She looked up at him shyly; he was looking at her with curiosity.

There was something, no _someone _in the shadows! He looked down at the girl who had obviously fallen over. Had she been eavesdropping on his conversation with Ron and Hermione? Had she heard anything that she possibly shouldn't have?

Harry wondered these things for a few moments, but then he moved herself so that her face was caught by the light, and all other thoughts were pushed from his mind.

He didn't know who this girl was, he didn't know her name. But Merlin, she was _beautiful_. Her deep brown hair flowed effortlessly around her shoulders, reminding him of a dark haired Veela. He moved his gaze to her eyes, and was almost blown backwards by the intensity of her eyes. Her bright green eyes. Those eyes, they had an air of innocent beauty about them the he just could not ignore, he was captured by those eyes and was sure that he would fall into them. He reluctantly ripped his gaze from her eyes for enough time to think of something to do.

He extended his hand towards her to help her up off the ground, and she kindly accepted. As she gently touched his hand, he gasped inwardly. Her hand, they were so soft and small, he was afraid that if he squeezed too hard he would crush them. But it was her touch that made him react to her. As soon as she had touched his hand, a jolt of what felt like electricity had surged through his body, from his head to his toes.

As she stood up, he looked at her carefully. Her make-up was done in a way that gave her eyes an air of mystery, not that they needed it. Her clothes were well worn and obviously a favourite of her. As he looked at her t-shirt, he smiled. The Ramones, a favourite band of his. Her jeans were baggy and didn't accent her too much, but Harry found her was not bothered by this. They hung low on her hips, and a studded belt held them in place. He glanced further down the girl, and stopped at her feet, Converse. He smiled again, he did love Converse. She wasn't a tall girl, infact she was quite the opposite, reaching just below his shoulder when she stood full height. Harry found this quite amusing, as he wasn't exactly the tallest boy of his age that he knew. But this girl's smallness just added to the overall aura of the girl.

This girl was beautiful to Harry, and he felt his face blush red when he realised that he had been thinking of a girl as more than just pretty, but as _beautiful._

Harry smiled at the girl and quickly turned around the walk away, immediately feeling stupid for doing so. This girl was _beautiful_ and he was walking away from her! But his legs would not turn around, he could only keep walking with his head hung low.

"You're a stupid git, Harry Potter, you know that?" he said quietly to himself as he descended the staircase to the kitchen.

Hope watched as the boy walked away down the landing. Something within her told her that she should run after him and at least ask her name, but she found she was glued to the spot. No matter what her heart was telling her, her body would just not move.

Hope sighed heavily. "Maybe it was a fluke? Maybe, we were just meant to meet the once, and never meet again?" she wondered idly, as she walked down the stairs towards the door.

As she reached the dank and dingy entrance hall, she heard voices coming from a stone staircase, and felt a sudden urge to go and find what all the noise was about. She was about to make a move towards the staircase, and then the new memory of what happened when she had been curious just a few minutes earlier flooded her brain, and she strongly decided against it.

Hope quietly opened the door of the house, and stepped out onto the steps leading up to it from the street. She closed the door behind quietly and started off down the steps towards the pavement. Once her feet were planted firmly on the paving slabs, she had the peculiar feeling that the house was shrinking behind her.

She turned round so quickly that the air around her made a rushing noise. She had turned around just in time to see the door of the house disappear between the two adjoining houses beside that. Her eyes were wide with amazement, and she stared open mouthed at the wall between number 11 and number 13.

Hope shook her head furiously, the wizarding world was a strange place, and anything was possible. She looked around her for a suitable place to apparate from and a small cluster of large dustbins caught her eye. She walked briskly towards them and stood in the middle of them. Being small, they easily were taller than her and she was hidden from sight from any prying eyes in the small square.

She concentrated hard, and turned quickly. With a loud crack, she had disappeared from the cluster of dustbins.

Harry walked dreamily into the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place, a very satisfied grin on his face, and sat down in his usual chair between Ron and Hermione at the large kitchen table. He could see Ron eyeing him curiously out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes?" he asked Ron, trying to sound as if nothing was wrong. He knew he had failed miserably, but Ron wasn't very hard to fool. "Why are you looking at me like you suspect me of eating your last chocolate frog?" Ron continued to look at him strangely for a few moments before saying in a suspicious tone, "You've done something."

Harry couldn't help snorting. "Excuse me?" he said, trying hard not to laugh.

"That's why you've got a big grin on your face, you've done something you found funny."

"Honestly, Ron, Hermione is right. Your skills of deduction leave a lot to be desired."

Ron looked furious, his face had gone nearly the same colour as the red Weasley jumper he was wearing today. Harry started laughing again.

"Can't a guy be happy the day before he returns to school?" asked Harry

"That's just it. About 10 minutes ago you were yelling us and being all angry, Harry, and we leave you on the landing for 5 minutes and you've got a big grin on your face! So come on! 'Fess up! What did you do? I swear, if you have done anything to my Cannons pos-" Ron had started to ramble loudly, and Harry was forced to put his hand over Ron's mouth to shut him up.

"I didn't do anything to your beloved poster. And I didn't do anything. But if you behave, I may just tell you later on why I have a grin on my face," said Harry. He removed his hand from Ron's face, and laughed at his look of shock at what he had just done to quiet him.

"Well, you wouldn't be quiet!" Harry said in defence to Ron's hurt face.


	3. Heart Skipping Beats

A loud crack sounded in small alley just down the street from the dingy, yet lively pub in London. Hope looked warily round, never having apparated to Diagon Alley before. The alley looked sinister and unwelcoming, she quickly seeked out the exit, not wanting to remain in the alley longer than she needed to. She caught a glimpse of light coming from the furthest end of the alley way. She almost ran towards it; the alley gave her a nasty feeling.

She emerged onto the busy London street and suddenly felt overwhelmed by the amount of people who surrounded her. She shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the overwhelmed feeling. _Honestly Hope, catch a grip on yourself,_ her inner voice said in a harsh tone. She sighed and looked up and down the street, trying to locate the dingy shop front and the rusty sign bearing the ever famous picture of a particularly leaky cauldron. She spotted it, about 20 metres up the street from where she was standing.

Without really knowing why, she took a deep breath before stepping out into the crowds on the busy street. People jostled her from every which way, and she struggled to keep herself on course. When at last she arrived outside the black shop front, she nervously looked around to see if anyone was watching her. It was only after looking round her she realised that this was a silly thing to think; why would anyone be paying any attention to what a 17 year old was doing in London, when they all had their busy lives to attend to?

The recently familiar pang of loss hit her, and she hung her head as she sighed. Then, this time knowing why she had done so, Hope took a deep breath before entering the pub. She smiled as she entered it, suddenly feeling much more welcome than she had in the past 24 hours. Looking around herself she noted to herself how little this place had changed since she had been here last. There was music playing softly in the background, and groups of people huddled together in private conversations all over the place, while others chose to sit alone with their drink, reading a paper or a book. Her smile dropped however, when she noticed one significant difference, it was the general feeling within the place that had changed. The feeling of welcome was still very much there, Hope could not deny this, but she noticed that instead of the usual cheery conversations going around her, she noticed that the voices of the conversations were hushed, the tones low. Voldemort's effect had spread to even those places where he had not set foot, his quest for power had ruined the atmosphere of one of the only places in the world, where witches and wizards could gather together as friends and forget about their troubles. Now, they could not even do that here.

Hope, who had been considering stopping in the pub for a butterbeer before venturing into Diagon Alley, instead decided against it and walked quickly through the pub and out onto the courtyard. Looking at the solid stone wall ahead of her, she desperately hoped that she could remember the combination of bricks. She did not really feel like having to ask Tom the Bartender to let her in to Diagon Alley, which would be just a little too embarrassing for her taste.

She stepped up to the wall and drew her wand from her jacket pocket. Without hesitation, for she knew that hesitation would only bring doubt, she began to tap the bricks on the wall, hoping that it was the correct combination after all. She shut her eyes and hoped for the best. When nothing happened for a few moments, she let out a breath she was not aware she had been holding and opened her eyes. She raised her wand again, preparing to start rapping the bricks once again, when the bricks began to separate before her eyes. She smiled to herself; perhaps she wasn't as forgetful as she thought she was.

As the bricks separated into the familiar archway, Hope gasped loudly. This was not the Diagon Alley she remembered. The one she remembered was bustling and cheery, full of people and children and strange noises and interesting shops full of everything you could ever wish to need. This Diagon Alley was far from that. A strange dull grey colour seemed to have settled itself upon it, and the windows of far too many shops had boarded up. The boards which covered the windows of the many shops she loved were plastered with bright purple posters, informing the readers of what to do if Voldemort attacked them.

Hope felt angry about this; the posters told you what to do alright, but they didn't tell you how you would feel, and how you would react. They made it seem as if you would be perfectly calm and collected if Voldemort just so happened to appear on your doorstep one night with his wand raised.

As she glanced about the small street, Hope noticed something important was missing from the scene. Something that had been so crucial in making Diagon Alley unique and a place where everyone wanted to be. There were no longer crowds of people bustling and chatting happily, there were no longer children running in between and around your legs. The atmosphere of Diagon Alley, just as in The Leaky Cauldron had disappeared.

Hope sighed heavily and wrapped her jacket closer round herself before setting off down the deserted street. She looked from side to side as she walked down the street, looking to see which of the shops had been closed. She looked for the well lit sign of her favourite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies and was saddened to see that it was not there anymore. She rushed over to the front of the shop, checking to see if it had at least remained open. Her face fell as her gaze fell upon the boarded up windows and the dilapidated sign above the door.

_So much for new armguards then_, she thought sadly.

Hope sighed again and set off towards Flourish and Blotts. Glad to see that it was still open, Hope quickly stepped inside and pulled out her book list. After locating a rather annoyed looking clerk, she asked him to help her look for the books she needed. The clerk looked at her curiously, obviously wondering why she was looking for books that she should have gotten years previously. He beckoned her to follow him through a small archway of teetering towers of books towards a large bookshelf.

"Now", said the clerk while he reached for a ladder to his left, "All of your books should be located in this bookshelf here. If you require any more assistance, please, do not hesitate to ask. I would stay and help, but I am very busy this morning."

Hope looked at the man for a moment or two. He was short, yet quite thin. His mousy hair hung over his eyes in a dishevelled fashion, and his cheeks bore the signs of flustered ness. She smiled at the man and thanked him. He handed her back her booklist and set off again between the arch of books.

Deciding that the task ahead of her was going to take a while, Hope took off her jacket and bag and set them down on the floor.

"Standard Book of Spells: Grade 7", she read, and then raised her head to look at the towering bookshelf. She looked along the shelves of books, and then spotted a whole shelf of books bearing the crest of the Department of Standard Spells. Stowing the booklist safely in her pocket, Hope started to climb the long ladder to the shelf. She reached the level of the shelf bearing the book she needed, and carefully scanned the shelf for a book that said "Grade 7". She spotted it at the very furthest end of the shelf from her, and made to get her wand from her pocket to summons it.

"Oh blast it all" she muttered, "I just had to leave it in my jacket didn't I."

She looked down to the ground, and tried to look through the arches of books, hoping that someone would come along so she could ask them to levitate her wand to her. She had just about given hope and was about to climb back down the ladder when she saw someone walk casually through the same arch of books she had walked through.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Harry ate his breakfast in silence, all the time aware that Ron was giving him suspicious looks. His grin did not falter however; it stood fast on his lips throughout the whole of breakfast.

After breakfast, the three of the made their way back up to Harry and Ron's room to decide on what to do with their last day of freedom.

"Well, where is there to go really?" asked Ron

"Lots of places! And we don't even have to stick to wizarding London!" Hermione replied excitedly, "We could go shopping on Oxford Street, or go to the Tower of London, or go on the London Eye!"

Ron looked very much as if he would like to throw something at Hermione.

"I think maybe not. You and Harry might be good at the whole Muggle thing, but I'm not" he said. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, honestly, Ronald," she said in an exasperated tone she reserved especially for Ron, "The only reason you're not good at it is because you hardly ever interact with them. It's your own fault."

Harry, however, was not listening to their argument. He was too busy thinking about the girl he had seen on the landing earlier that morning.

_She was cute_, he thought to himself. _And she was wearing a Ramones t-shirt._ Harry smiled as he remembered how the t-shirt had looked on her. It showed off her curves, without being too tight. He had loved the way it had looked on her, and yet he did not know who she was. He did not know her name. She haunted his thoughts, nameless. He was frustrated with himself that all he had done was to help her up and walk away, as if he would see her again. But what if he didn't? What if their paths never crossed again?

He sighed deeply. Who was this girl? Even though he had never heard her speak, he had the strangest feeling that he could hear her calling his name. Harry could not deny it; he rather enjoyed the thought that she would call his name.

His thought were interrupted however, by a rather moth eaten pillow hitting him in the face. He looked at his two friends sitting in front if him, accusation written all over his face.

He found the culprit in Ron; he was beaming widely and looking triumphant.

"What the bleeding hell was that for?" he asked angrily.

"Well, firstly it was payback for last night. Now you know how it feels for a disgustingly musty pillow to hit you square in the face!" said Ron in an accusatory tone, "And secondly, we've been trying to get your attention for at least two minutes." Ron shrugged his shoulders at Harry, as if that would make his innocence clear. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Well, what do you want?" asked Harry

"Well, firstly, we would like to know if you had any suggestions as to what we could do today, and secondly, why you have had a large grin planted on your face since breakfast", it was Hermione who answered his question, and he didn't like the tone of her voice when she spoke. There was an air of knowing surrounding it, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. Harry looked up at her held her gaze, asking her the question silently. The look she returned to him was all he needed. She knew what he was thinking about. Harry looked away from her, blushing, and he heard her giggle slightly.

"Why don't we just go to Diagon Alley? You're probably dying to go to Flourish and Blotts again," said Harry, trying to make his voice sound as if he wasn't blushing furiously.

"Are you sure Harry? I mean, Diagon Alley isn't as brilliant as it used to be." said Hermione. Harry thought about this for a moment, she was right of course. Diagon Alley certainly wasn't the place it used to be, but there were still a few decent shops open there. And a visit to Weasley Wizard Wheezes was never out of order.

"Yeah, we can go and see Fred and George," replied Harry, catching Ron's eye. He knew perfectly well that he could do with stocking up on some joke material, and the WWW was the only place to get it. He turned to face Hermione again; her face was positively red with anger.

"Harry! You are Head Boy now! You cannot run around playing jokes on people, especially not this year!" she snapped. Hermione glanced from Harry to Ron in turn, making them feel very nervous under her glare.

"Honestly Hermione, sometimes I wonder why your name isn't Percy," said Ron. Hermione made a noise rather like Professor McGonagall made when Harry and Ron weren't paying attention.

"Come on, you two," she said angrily, "if we don't get a move on, we won't have nearly enough time in Flourish and Blotts."

Harry and Ron grumbled when she said this – Hermione had been known to spend countless hours in Flourish and Blotts carefully selecting as many books as she could carry. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem, as Ron and Harry could spend the time in Quality Quidditch Supplies, but it had since closed down, and they were therefore forced to spend the time with Hermione in Flourish and Blotts, thoroughly bored.

10 minutes later, the three of them stumbled out of the fire place of The Leaky Cauldron. Harry took pride in the fact that he was now able to stay upright when he emerged from a fireplace after travelling by floo powder. Ron, who had been travelling by floo powder for years, casually strolled out of the fireplace looking smug. Harry rolled his eyes at him but said nothing. It wasn't often that Ron was able to do something well, so when he did find something he could do better than Harry and Hermione, he made sure that they knew it. Hermione fell clumsily out of the fireplace just after Ron, and landed with a bump on her bottom. She looked up at them shyly and Harry couldn't help but laugh as he stuck out his hand to help her up off the ashy hearth rug. She smiled gratefully as she accepted his offer, using his arm to pull herself up.

"Thanks," she said, still blushing from her ungraceful landing.

The three teenagers made their way out into the courtyard, and rapped the bricks without a second thought. They had all been here too many times to find it hard to remember the combination. It came as second nature to them.

As the blank brick wall came away and made itself into the archway he knew so well, Harry unconsciously pulled his jacket round himself tighter as he looked onto the bleak street. He sighed as he looked at the bordered up windows of the shops he loved so much.

They strolled in silence down the street until they reached the ever familiar shop front of Flourish and Blotts. Harry looked up at the sign before entering extensive shop, and smiled. There was something about Flourish and Blotts that just warmed his heart, although he was not sure what it was. Perhaps it was the familiar scent of parchment and ink, or maybe it was because it reminded him of one of his best friends, Hermione.

Harry stepped over the threshold of the shop, and began to wander between the teetering towers of books. He looked through the bookshelves, reading the titles that caught his eye. He sighed as he looked at one book, "**_Magical Me"_**. The beaming face of Gilderoy Lockhart graced the front cover of the book, and Harry was suddenly hit with a wave of unpleasant memories of that man. Harry shook his head in an attempt to rid his mind of the unpleasantness of having to remember that man.

Harry continued to walk through the rows of bookshelves, occasionally stopping to look through a vaguely interesting book, or a book he had remembered from his previous years at Hogwarts.

Elsewhere in the shop, he heard the distant, yet distinct "Yes!" of Hermione. Clearly she had found a book she had been looking for. He chuckled slightly.

Looking ahead of him, he saw his most favourite part of this shop. It was the bookcase in which all of the books needed for Hogwarts students were kept. He smiled as he walked through the archway of books into the room. Looking around his heart was warmed to recognise the familiar features of this room: its high ceiling with its bookcase full of exciting books, the ladder which was used to reach said books, the beautiful girl standing at the top of the ladder.

Hang on. Beautiful girl standing at the top of the ladder? That was new!

Harry swung himself round to get a better look at the girl, and suddenly he realised all at once that it was the girl from earlier.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Oh my God", whispered Hope. It was him, the boy from the landing.

His hair was sitting messier than earlier on, apparently it was windy outside. Now that she could see him in proper light, she knew she had been wrong. This boy was not just handsome, this boy was bloody gorgeous!

Hope had to regain control on herself, she suddenly felt very light headed and felt her knees begin to wobble. She gripped onto the bookcase tightly, trying to gain a little extra support to step herself from falling off the ladder and looking like a prat.

'Breathe Hope, it's only a boy.' She told herself hastily, 'You don't even know his name. He probably doesn't even think your halfway attractive! Now stop being so silly and ask him to levitate your wand to you!'

Hope took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy. Why couldn't someone _else _come through that archway, why did it have to be him? Now she would be lucky if she didn't fall off the ladder, never mind climb down it!

Harry had to rip his gaze away from her. He was almost positive she would think he was some kind of pervert for looking at her for so long. But to be perfectly honest, he couldn't help it! She looked so cute standing at the top of that ladder. He smiled shyly up at her, and she looked away, obviously blushing furiously.

'Say something, you prat!' said a voice that sounded strangely like Ron in his head, 'You were complaining earlier that you hadn't even spoken to her, now here's your choice!'

But he was saved the bother, for at that moment she called down to him in a shaky voice,

"Uhm. Would you mind please levitating my wand up to me? I've left it in my jacket pocket."

Her voice. Oh how it made his stomach do back flips. He looked up to her and nodded silently.

'Way to go, idiot! Go ahead and nod away, that's really going to impress her that is!'

He had a strange feeling that someone had just pushed him from behind, because he was not sure he had told himself to start moving towards the jacket and bag that were lying in a heap on the floor. Harry looked back up at her,

"This your jacket?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound as stable as he could. Failing miserably, he looked down and waited for the reply, to hear her voice again.

"Yeah, it should be in the inside pocket." She said. Her voice was like music to his ears, he was sure that he could sit and listen to her speak all day, and never get bored. He loved the sound of her voice.

It amazed Hope that she hadn't fallen off the ladder at that moment. He spoke to her, and her insides went crazy. His voice was deep, yet soft. It sounded comforting and kind. She had only heard him speak the once, but she loved it.

She watched intently as he drew out his own elegant wand. It was clearly used and worn, but that made it all the better. She didn't like things as important as wands when they were brand new. She liked them when they were worn and used; they had more character that way.

She watched him as he silently cast the levitation spell over her wand, and she watched as it silently floated its way up to her position on the ladder. She reached out her hand to accept the floating wand, and smiled when the warmness of the cherry wood under her fingers. Hope always did like her wand. Eight and a half inches long, cherry wood with a dragon heartstring core. It was nice and swishy, and had gotten Hope out of a few sticky spots over the years.

Hope smiled down at the boy and said a shaky "Thank you" to him. He smiled back and said, "You're most welcome" in return.

She held his gaze for a while, and Harry found himself lost in her eyes and her warm and inviting look. Her deep green pools were so beautiful he wondered if he would ever be able to look away from him.

There was something about this girl, something that intrigued, something that made him want to stay in her company as long as he could and find out as much about her as he could.

He heard someone call his name in the distance, and was forced to look away from her in the direction it had come from. It was Ron calling him – apparently Hermione had as many books as she could carry. He felt pure anger towards her just then, couldn't she wait just half an hour more?

"HARRY!" he heard Hermione call this time, her voice sounded angry.

"I'M COMING!" he called back. He looked back up at the girl and smiled before he left through the archway of books.

He had wanted to stay there forever with the girl.

'Perhaps', he thought desperately, 'This wont be the last time our paths cross. This is the second time today we've met. Maybe, just maybe, we will meet again someday'

Hope sank back against the ladder, clutching her wand to her chest, and let out a breath she was not aware she had been holding.

"Harry…", she whispered dreamily…


	4. Radio's In Heaven

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AN : Okay, i'd just like to say that PLEASE could people review if they read this? i'm not sure if anyone does and if nobody is reading it im not sure if there is any point in keeping it up here. Comment! tell me what you like what you don't like, your thoughts, your feelings, anything! i'd love to hear from you! 

secondly, the song used in this chapter doesnt belong to me, it's by the Plain White Tees, so dont sue me, okay?

thirdly, just wanna thank my beta andy, cause he's my grammar genious!

Chapter Four /

Hope sat alone in her room that night, surveying her new things. There were three piles of large books, a nice neat pile of new Hogwarts robes, a cauldron overflowing with ingredients and a package full of new parchment and quills.

She smiled widely. "This isn't a dream," she whispered, "its real. I'm really going to Hogwarts." She giggled to herself happily.

She had been thinking about what Hogwarts would be like. Would she be disappointed when she got there? She wondered about the stories her mother and father had told her about their days at the castle. She wondered if she would be able to have as much as fun in one year as everyone else did in seven.

Her smile faltered. She had tried not to think about the fact that she was going to be a new seventh year. All the other seventh years would have close friendships with each other; they weren't going to want another strange new girl join in with them. She sighed heavily. She'd never had to deal with having no friends before, and it made her nervous to have to make new ones. She'd had the same group of friends since she was 5, and now, because of that damn _Voldemort_ she had to leave them, and everything she knew, and join a different world of people, make new friends and try to fit in.

Oh no. Fitting in. The thought of it made her nervous. She glanced over at her guitar is its coffin case. What would people say about her love for the guitar and music? What would they say about her clothes? Would they make fun of her if it wasn't the "Style" at Hogwarts?

Hope was staring dead into space, trying to clear her mind of thoughts when she heard a soft knock on her door. She got up off her bed slowly, and went to the door. She opened it only a slither, cautious, still very intimidated by the gloomy house. She smiled however and opened the door wide when she saw the light reflecting off the silver mane of Albus Dumbledore.

"Unc - I mean, Albus!" she said, beckoning him into her room before hugging him tightly. "What brings you here for the second time today?" she asked brightly.

"I'm here to tell you the arrangements for your trip to Hogwarts tomorrow," he said, smiling widely. Hope smiled back at him, her eyes lighting up.

"Are you going to let me go on the train?" she asked him excitedly. She had heard the stories of the Hogwarts Express, and wanted desperately to go on it.

"Why yes, I am indeed," replied Albus, still smiling widely. "You will apparate to an alley just along from Kings Cross Station tomorrow morning at 10 o'clock along with your trunk. From there, you will access platform 9 ¾ and board the train to Hogwarts!" he exclaimed. Hope was not sure who was more excited about it, Albus or herself.

Hope ran over the plan in her mind for a moment before speaking again.

"We may have a little problem Albus," she remarked slowly. His eyes had a certain twinkle to them.

"Oh?" he asked, obviously trying to sound surprised and failing miserably, "and what would that be?"

"I don't know how to get onto the platform..." she mumbled. She was embarrassed to say it, although she was not sure why. She felt strangely like a first year. Albus however, only smiled winder and tapped her forehead. She scrunched up her nose before looking at him.

"You'll figure it out," he stated knowingly. He rose gracefully up from the bed and walked towards the door. He opened it for himself and smiled at Hope as he backed out of the doorway.

Hope had been left alone for no more than ten seconds before there was another soft knock at her door. She looked at the door in a quizzical way, wondering who it was. Was it Uncle Albus back again? She crossed the room to the door and opened it only a slit.

Standing in the hallway was a short, plump woman with fiery red hair. She wore a broad grin on her face and she gave off a welcoming vibe, something Hope was very glad for.

"Hello dear," said the woman brightly, "I'm Molly Weasley." Hope was taken aback at just how happy and bright this woman was, considering the dark times within the wizarding world, but she smiled back all the same as she opened the door wider, allowing the woman entrance.

"Hello, I'm Hope Winters," replied Hope, her voice shaky from the surprise of such a bright welcome. The old woman looked positively ecstatic that Hope had let her into her room, and she quickly bumbled into the room.

"I've come to tell you about the dinner arrangements for this evening," she stated, the brightness in her voice never faltering. She looked at Hope eagerly, obviously waiting for a reply.

"Oh, right. Well okay," said Hope, her voice was still shaky.

"Well, seeing as tonight is the last night of the holidays, we usually put on a feast for the kids, you know. A sort of going away party," Molly Weasley smiled again, even wider than before, and Hope could not help but feel heartened by this woman's hospitable nature.

"The children?" Hope inquired, confused.

"Oh yes, there are children who stay here for a while over the summer before Hogwarts," she replied.

"Oh right, yes, of course."

"Well, the festivities will begin at around six o'clock this evening, and if you're feeling up to it, you are most welcome to join us."

"Well thank you Mrs Weasley, I will see." Molly started for the door, but stopped just before touching the door handle and spun around to face Hope. She walked slowly towards her and placed a gentle hand on Hope's arm.

"I wasn't going to say anything, but your parents were good friends of mine. And I would just like to give you my sympathies. They were good people, your parents. Kind and giving, and I am sure you are more of the same." Molly smiled, but this time it was not bright. It was sad, and sympathetic. Hope felt tears begin to swell in her eyes, but forced them back. She would not cry, not in front of this bright woman, she would not be responsible for dampening anyone's bright mood.

"Thank you," whispered Hope finally, "Very, very much."

Molly let go of her arm and walked slowly to the door, opened it, and smiled at Hope again before backing out onto the landing, leaving the door open just a slit.

Harry was practically floating on air as he walked through Diagon Alley the rest of the day. He was acutely aware of Ron staring at him with curiosity out of the corner of his eye, and Hermione giggling behind him. But he found he did not care. He had seen her again, and he had heard her speak, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

It was almost an hour after the three of them had emerged from Flourish and Blotts that Ron blurted out the question he had obviously been bursting to ask since they had found Harry in the shop.

"I can't take it anymore!" he confessed loudly, his voice slightly higher in pitch, so that it made Harry and Hermione jump with surprise. They were just about to walk into Eeylops Owl Emporium when Ron finally voiced his thoughts. He stuck a hand out and clapped Harry on the shoulder, forcing Harry to turn round and look him in the face. Harry heard Hermione make a strange noise beside him.

"Tell me right now," said Ron flatly, staring Harry straight in the face. Harry, who had been smiling since he had first met the girl, still could not stop smiling despite the intimidating look on Ron's face. He knew exactly what Ron was talking about, but Harry decided that it would be funnier to hear Ron try and put into words what he was trying to ask. It was a sly tactic, Harry knew, but he couldn't help it, he was in too good a mood today to really care.

"Tell you what Ron?" he asked, trying his hardest not to laugh. Ron made an exasperated noise that reminded Harry uncannily of Hermione. Far from taking his mind off of Ron's tightening grip on his shoulder, this small thought broke Harry's concentration on trying not to laugh, and he burst out laughing right in Ron's face.

Harry recovered himself just in time to see Ron give him the death glare, which immediately sobered him up. The smile, however, was still planted firmly on his lips; it was if it had been permanently glued there, not that Harry was complaining. If it was there forever more, then every time he saw himself smiling, or asked himself why he was smiling broadly, he would be reminded of the girl. The girl whose name he didn't even know, and yet she still captivated him. The thought of her alone made him weak at the knees.

Ron, who was still giving Harry the death glare, began to speak. "You know!" he yelped, his tone a little higher than usual. "You've been smiling away all morning, and I want to know why!"

Harry looked at Ron, trying to let an 'I have no idea what on earth you are talking about' sort of look spread across his face. Judging by Ron's face, however, it was not working. Harry sighed and looked up the street towards the dingy pub he knew so well.

"C'mon," he said finally, "Buy me a butterbeer and I will tell you both."

Much to Harry's surprise however, it was Hermione who was far more interested in why Harry was so happy, rather than Ron. Harry supposed it had something to do with the look they had shared earlier that morning.

Hermione rushed back to the table from the bar, almost spilling the three flagons of the steaming liquid before slamming them on the table top. She sat down beside Ron, who was opposite Harry, her face eager.

"Steady on, Hermione," said Ron, half laughing. "What's gotten into you?"

"I am just as interested in what Harry has to say as you are, Ronald. Just because I didn't come right out and ask him, doesn't mean that I don't have an interest. I was going for a less direct approach. I was going to let Harry tell me what was making him smile so much in his own due time. And if my suspicions are correct on the subject of Harry's strange behaviour today," she turned to face Harry, her eyes twinkling, "then he would have most certainly told me before the end of dinner." She beamed at the two boys, Harry looked bewildered and Ron looked at her in disbelief. There was a long pause before anyone spoke again.

"It's official," sighed Ron, "I will _never_ understand girls." Harry, who had just taken a large gulp of his drink, choked. Hermione however, simply rolled her eyes before turning her gaze to Harry.

"Right then, Mister Potter," she said inquisitively, "spill."

Harry smiled, and then told them what had happened on the landing, and again in Flourish and Blotts. All the while, noting the excited look on Hermione's face and the 'I can't believe you' look on Ron's.

He fell silent after he had finished his tale, and waited for their response. Ron was the first to reply.

"So let me get this straight," he said, "the reason you've been smiling non stop all day, is because of this girl?"

"Yep," said Harry simply. He turned slightly to look at Hermione, his smile widening even more at the look upon her face. She was smiling almost as wide as he was, and her eyes were twinkling with excitement.

"Oh Harry!" she exclaimed excitedly, "Oh Harry, that's brilliant! So who is she? What's her name? Why was she in Grimmauld Place?"

"I don't know, Hermione. I don't know her name, or why she was there" replied Harry, his smile faltering slightly at the realisation that he did not know who this girl was.

"You mean, you don't know who this girl is? Not even her name?" Hermione asked, sounding slightly disappointed.

"No. I've never seen her before, and there are a million reasons why she would have been at Grimmauld Place." Harry was beginning to feel rather disheartened, and his hope that he would see the girl again was beginning to slip away. "But that's not the point. As soon as I saw her, I was completely taken with her. She's small, but not tiny, like a cute kind of small. Her hair is deep brown and was swimming around her shoulders. And her eyes, oh her eyes! They were this gorgeous shade of green, I almost got lost in them! And I know she's into the same music as me, because she was wearing a Ramones t-shirt. And her voice, it's like music to my ears. I could sit and listen to her talk all day and never get bored, it's so beautiful!"

Harry looked over at Ron, who looked as if he might just throw up at any moment. He turned back to Hermione, who looked rather the opposite of Ron. The excited twinkle in her eyes was even brighter than before. She sighed in a satisfied sort of way.

"Harry, that is the single sweetest thing I have ever heard in my life." She said quietly. In almost an instant however, the happy look had disappeared from her face, to be replaced with an angry stare. "WHY IN THE NAME OF MERLIN DIDN'T YOU ASK HER WHAT HER NAME WAS?" she yelled suddenly, causing Harry and Ron to jump in surprise.

"Hermione, calm down would you?" Ron whispered, looking around him nervously. Harry looked around himself too, and was suddenly aware that everyone in the pub was looking at them. Harry silently apologised to them all before turning back to look at Hermione again.

"It wasn't that simple, okay?" he said, trying to look very interested in his half empty flagon, "She does something to me every time I see her. I get all nervous and choked up, I can't think straight and my knees go all wobbly. Besides, what good would knowing her name do? I'm already crazy about her; I don't care who she is or why she was at Grimmauld Place." Hermione sighed sadly before speaking again.

"Why can't there be more guys like you Harry?" she said sadly.

"Hey!" said Ron, "what makes you think I'm not like that?" Hermione laughed.

"Don't be so stupid Ron. I don't want to have to remind you of the Won-Won incident," she said, smirking.

They finished off their butterbeers and quickly apparated home, not wanting to be late for dinner.

Hope was lying flat out on her bed, staring at the ceiling, deep in thought.

_I wonder what Hogwarts is like, have Mum and Dad done it justice with their stories? How big is it? How cold is it? Is there really a crazy poltergeist called Peeves? What are the students like? Does Harry go to Hogwarts?_

She paused her thoughts suddenly, horrified. Was he on her mind that much that he was getting in the way of her thoughts on _Hogwarts_? She needed to not think about him. What if she never saw him again, and all this thinking about him and fantasising and dreaming was an entire waste of time? She couldn't have it, she wouldn't have it.

_Right Hope, _she thought sternly_, you will go through an entire thought process without it straying to him. I mean, I don't even know him. I only know that he is really gorgeous, has a brilliant taste in music and clothes, has the sexiest voice on the planet and is called Harry. Harry, what a sexy, lovely name that is too._

She stopped again, this time angry with herself. She couldn't even _tell_ herself not think about him without straying off and thinking about him. She sighed, giving in to the defeat of her mind, and thought about him.

_I wonder where he is right now? Is he sitting thinking about me, the small girl he met on the landing? No, of course he's not! Don't be stupid! Why would he be thinking about me? I mean, he only helped me off the ground and levitated my wand to me, that's hardly enough to make him want to think about me, is it?_

_But I'm thinking about him. Surely if I'm thinking about him after what happened today, then he's thinking about me. _Hope sighed heavily,_ of course he's not. Silly Hope!_

_However, all is not lost. Just because he won't be thinking of me, doesn't mean I can't think about him, right? Yes, that's right. I can think about him all I like._

_Where is he right now? Is he off in some club picking up pretty girls? Probably, he's good looking enough! I first saw him in this house though; maybe he's one of the kids that Molly was talking about! Maybe he's been right under my nose! Oh how exciting!_

Hope jumped quickly off of her bed and stood in front of her mirror, examining her reflection in it. After much deliberation, she decided that a top-up of eyeliner was never out of order. She grabbed the small pencil and sharpened it hastily before applying around the outline of her eyes. She stood back to admire the result and smiled. She had always preferred the way she looked with eyeliner on, rather than off. She thought it made her look better, sexier perhaps.

Hope glanced quickly down to her watch, it was 6 o'clock. The party would just be starting now, and if he was one of the children Mrs. Weasley had been talking about, then he would surely be down enjoying himself, wouldn't he?

She didn't much feel like going down to party with people she did not know. And if Harry _was_ down at the party, she felt sure that she would not be able to breathe long enough to even walk into the room.

Harry had propped himself up on the wall beside his bed. He was staring at the wall opposite him, deep in thought.

_Where is she right now? _He thought, dropping his gaze to his worn-in jeans, picking at a loose thread in the material. _What is she doing? What is she thinking? Would she be thinking about me? Surely not, I mean, why would she? I only helped her up off of the landing, and levitated her wand to her. That's not enough to make her want to think about me, surely?_

_But I'm thinking about her, so why would she think about me? And what about that look she gave me? She held my gaze, with her eyes. Oh her eyes, I really wasn't lying to Hermione today when I said I could get lost in them. I really could, they are so beautiful, so pretty, so intriguing._

Harry sighed and stared around his room, eventually he looked at the open trunk on the bed and sighed heavily again.

"Suppose I'd better get this packing done, hadn't I?" he said, not really speaking to anyone.

He heaved himself off of the floor and began scouring the room for any forgotten items. He was glad he did this, for he found many items he would have sorely missed had he forgotten them. His photo album, containing the only pictures he owned of his parents, and many pictures of his friends. He threw himself onto the bed with it, and idly flicked through its pages, pausing every few pictures to appreciate the friends he had been blessed with. He rather felt they were his family of sorts; he didn't have anyone else after all.

He flipped over a few pages, and cringed immediately. At the top of the page, was a picture he'd always meant to throw out, it was a picture of himself staring idly in the direction of a pretty girl with long black silky hair. There was a small trail of drool running down his chin in the picture, and Harry shook his head. Looking at the rest of the page, he felt strange. They were pictures of himself and Ginny. In some of them, he was kissing her, in others; they were just holding each other, in one they were dancing in the common room. He was confused to say the least, not more than a few weeks ago he would have looked at these pictures and felt a pang of longing in his heart for her. He had missed her, and wanted her back so much, but his reasoning of breaking up with her kept creeping back into his mind.

Now, however, when he looking at these photographs, he felt no pang of loss or longing. He felt happy that their relationship had taken place; there was no doubt about it. But Harry didn't feel the same way about her as he did now, something had changed.

Harry's gaze fell upon one picture where he was kissing Ginny softly on the lips, and his thoughts drifted unsurprisingly to the girl he had seen today.

_I wonder if she is a good kisser. I would certainly like to kiss her, but would she like to kiss me? Probably not, look at me. Ginny was the first person I'd ever met who wanted to kiss me. I've got an ugly scar on my forehead that scares everyone off, she would never think I'm good looking enough to kiss me, or even hold my hand, or go for a walk with._

He stopped his thoughts abruptly, was he really thinking about kissing this girl? He didn't know anything about her! He had seen her briefly only twice; surely he shouldn't be thinking such things about her? Harry sighed, decided that it didn't matter anyway. He would probably never see her again and all his thinking about her would be a waste of time anyway. Still, there was no harm in thinking about her.

_Why haven't I seen her before? She looked about my age, and she sounded like she was from England, so why hadn't she gone to Hogwarts? I met her first in the landing, and what a beautiful moment it was. She looked awfully cute, she took my breath away!_

Harry sat up quickly, thoughts running through his head furiously.

_The landing! In this House! In Grimmauld Place! Maybe she's still here!_

Harry jumped up quickly from his bed, forgetting entirely about packing his trunk. He threw open the door to his and Ron's bedroom and rushed along the landing.

Hope was torn. Did she risk walking around the weird house after getting her hopes up, only to realise that Harry was not actually in the building at all? She bit her lip, thinking. She could wait for later, she supposed, until the party was over. But he would probably be going to bed by then, and then what would she do? Sneak in on him?

_Don't be stupid Hope_, she scolded herself angrily, _you're thinking as if he's here! Which he probably isn't!_

Hope sighed heavily, she was right and she hated it. He probably wasn't even in the house at all. She looked over to the door longingly, desperate to leave the room and roam the house looking for him, just in case he _was_ there.

No, she wouldn't do it. He wouldn't be in the house anyway. She sighed again, this time sadly as she sat on her bed grumpily. She now felt thoroughly depressed, and suddenly a new feeling crept into her. Guilt.

How could she be so disrespectful? How could she be excited about going to Hogwarts, and thinking about Harry when her parents had been murdered the day before? She was disgusted with herself, and soft tears began to fall down her face. She felt awful, she couldn't believe that she would tarnish her parents' memory so quickly!

She sat thinking for a moment or two, wondering if perhaps this was her way with dealing with it, thinking about something else. She sighed, still feeling horrible.

She swiped away the tears with her hand, and looked around her room desperately for her guitar. It was her only release. She spotted it sitting in the corner, still in its case. She sniffed, and rose up off the bed and went to retrieve it.

Opening the lid of the coffin case, she couldn't help but smile despite herself. She loved her guitar; it was like her best friend. She looked over the body of it, her gaze stopping upon two signatures, her parents' signatures. The tears fell again, hot and wet, sliding down her cheek.

She carefully lifted the acoustic out of its case, and rummaged in her back pocket for the plectrum she kept with her at all times. She eventually found it, and began to strum the strings of the guitar. She smiled as the sound sent a shiver down her spine, and Goosebumps all over her arms.

She played a few more chords at random, until she found a combination she liked. Hope carried on with putting together chords, until she had gotten a nice melody again. She smiled again, she hadn't written anything in ages, and she missed the feeling of creating a new melody out of nowhere. She took off her guitar and rummaged in her trunk until she found her notebook and pen. She quickly jotted down the chord combination, before playing it through again a few more times.

She sat back and thought for a while, then began to jot down some words, lyrics, onto the paper before her.

Harry walked silently through the house, careful not to wake anything. He had had too much experience with things unexpectedly waking up in this house and jumping out at you.

He was listening carefully as he walked, trying to block his mind to the party in the basement kitchen, and open his ears to any other noise within the house.

He walked along the top landing, and was disheartened to hear nothing of interest. It was only when he went down a landing that he heard something very intriguing. There was someone playing guitar, and singing at the end of the corridor. Somebody singing, and playing the guitar _beautifully_.

Completely forgetting about his quest to find the girl, Harry quietly walked to the end of the landing and stood outside the door containing the source of the music. He stood there, listening to the person play the song for a while. They were obviously writing a song, because the playing was disjointed, and every now and again he heard the scratching of a pen on a parchment notebook.

He noticed, after a short while, that the reason the music was able to be heard so well throughout the house, was because whoever was in there had left the door open, just a slit, but it was enough to let the light from inside the room slither across the floor of the landing.

He paused for a few seconds, deliberating whether or not he should find out who was in the room creating the music. He was curious however, as to who it might be, he knew almost everyone who was in the order, and to his knowledge, none of them played the guitar. But he reminded himself, that it was not just people from the order who stayed in this house.

He took a deep breath, and silently opened the door slightly more. He peered inside, and was struck dumb. He gasped loudly, but thankfully the music drowned him out. It was her! The girl! She was playing the guitar! And oh, how she looked _beautiful_ doing it.

Harry was not sure how long he had been standing there for, it might have been 10 minutes, and it might have been 10 hours, he did not know and more to the point he did not really care. He was more interested in watching the elegant way in which her fingers moved around the fret board, and the hypnotising way she strummed the strings of the stunning guitar.

He came to his senses long enough to hear her play the opening chords of the song. She played beautifully, better than he had heard anyone else play in his life, but he thought me might be biased.

He sat down cross legged on the floor, and awaited the rest of the song. She finally finished the intro, and came in with a voice so magnificent Harry was surprised he wasn't knocked out by it. She sang like an angel, and he couldn't wait to hear more. Harry listened closely to the words of the song as she played, mesmerised.

_Your time has already come and I don't know why_

_The last thing that I had heard_

_you were doin' just fine_

_It seems like just yesterday_

_I was laughing with you_

_Playing games at Grandma's house_

_well you taught me well, didn't you?_

_I hope I'm just like you_

_Do they have radios in heaven?_

_I hope they do_

_'Cause they're playing my song on the radio_

_And I'm singing it to you_

_You left before I had a chance to say goodbye_

_But that's the way life usually is_

_it just passes you by_

_But you can't hold on to regrets and you can't look back_

_So I'll just be thankful for the times that I had with you_

_I hope I'm just like you_

_Do they have radios in heaven?_

_I hope they do_

_'Cause they're playing my song on the radio_

_And I'm singing it to you_

_If they don't have radios in heaven_

_here's what I'll do_

_I can bring my guitar when my time is up and I'll play it for you_

_Tell me can you hear me now_

_if not, then I can try to sing real loud_

_What's it like up on the other side of the clouds?_

_I hope I'm just like you_

_I hope I turn out to be as good as you._

Harry couldn't move. He was frozen solid, and for one of the few times in his life, he knew exactly why. He hadn't been hit with a body binding charm, but the feeling was almost identical. No, he was unable to move, out of pure shock.

Those words. The words of that song hit him like a bludger when he wasn't paying attention during Quidditch. He felt close to those words, they touched him in a place deep inside his heart, somewhere even Ginny hadn't been. They described exactly how he had felt ever since he realised that he had lost his parents.

The tears were silently streaming down his face, he couldn't stop them. Not that he wanted to, or cared either. He was dumbstruck by the song she had just sung, so beautifully.

He sighed heavily, and without thinking said his thoughts aloud.

"That was….indescribable," he breathed.

Hope spun round suddenly, staring at Harry with wide eyes. Was he there, on the floor, looking at _her?_

A million thoughts raced through Hope's mind just then, thoughts like: Had he been listening to me playing? How long has he been there? Was he talking about the song? Were those _tears_ in his eyes? But not one of them stuck so much in her mind as "Was he really there?"

Harry stood up shakily, his face red with embarrassment.

"I...I...I'm so sorry!" he said, before turning round abruptly and running along the landing as fast he possibly could, leaving her to stare at the spot where he had been stood.

Hope ran to the door, in the hope of catching him before he went any further away from her.

"Wait…" she said quietly to the deserted landing, "its okay."


	5. The Hogwarts Express

a/n: again, there is a bit of the song radios in heaven by the plain white tees in this chapter. I finally got this one up, so i hope you people enjoy! also, if you read this PLEASE COMMENT! i never get comments, and that makes me sad, because i really like this story. anyway, i hope you enjoy this!

disclaimer : i dont own this, i'm just playing with JKR's characters, so dont sue me.

Chapter Five / The Hogwarts Express

Harry didn't stop running until he got to his room. He burst in through the door and found the startled faces of Ron and Hermione staring back at him from their beds.

_Oh bollocks, _he thought_, way to go, Harry. Forgot they would be in here, didn't you, now they are going to badger you about why you nearly took the door off its hinges. Play it cool…_

"What?" he asked them, trying to make sure his voice sound as nonchalant as possible. To his surprise, he was quite successful.

"Well, you just burst through the door, completely out of breath, with a strange look on your face," replied Hermione in that knowing tone again. "And _usually_ that would tend to suggest that there is something wrong, Harry."

_She knows! _Harry thought nervously, _She's using that tone again, she knows exactly what's up._

"Nope," chirped Harry brightly, "I'm just excited to be getting back to Hogwarts is all! I've got too much energy so I ran up the stairs; I didn't really mean to burst through the door like that. Honest."

He looked from Ron to Hermione, all the while not letting his smile falter; he had to keep up the act if they were going to believe him. He didn't really feel like telling them about the moment he had just accidentally shared with the girl.

Ron seemed to think this was a good enough story, and shrugged before rolling back over in his bed, although Harry was sure he heard him mutter something that sounded rather like "Bloody mental" under his breath. Harry turned his gaze to Hermione, hoping beyond hope that he would see the same look on her face as he had seen on Ron's. He was sorely disappointed, however, for Hermione was wearing a look dripping with curiosity, but to Harry's relief she decided not to press the matter further and also rolled over in her bed.

Harry smiled again; glad that for once he had been able to hide what he was feeling, at least half well. He knew Hermione knew something was up, but as long as she didn't ask questions, he wasn't too bothered.

He quickly changed out of his clothes and got into bed, rolling over onto his side. He lay awake for some time, just thinking about the girl and the events of that song. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep with the words of the song playing over and over again in his head.

**I hope I'm just like you  
I hope I turn out to be as good as you.**

_Crack_.

Hope looked around herself, trying to figure out just where she had apparated to. She appeared to be in a public toilet cubicle. She smiled and shook her head; trust her to apparate into a _toilet._

She flushed the toilet, just to make it seem to any nearby Muggles that she hadn't just gone and sat in a toilet cubicle for the heck of it, and opened the cubicle. She glanced in the mirror as she exited the ladies, and realised how stupid she must have looked coming out a cubicle with a large trunk trailing behind her.

Once out of the toilets, she rummaged in her bag for the ticket that Albus had given to her. She stared at it stupidly, trying to figure out whether or not he was pulling her leg.

"Platform 9 ¾? What the hell?" she said aloud, not really meaning too.

Hope lifted her head and looked around, half hoping there would be a sign saying "Platform 9 ¾" but knowing really that such a thing was stupid. She sighed deeply when she saw nothing and slumped her shoulders. She hated it when Albus wasn't direct, why couldn't he have just told her how to get on to the platform?

She was so deep in thoughts of frustration at not being able to get on to the platform, that she hadn't noticed somebody calling her name just behind her. Eventually the person had to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. She jumped and squealed in surprise before turning round to look at who had tapped her.

She gasped when she saw who had tapped her though, and had to take a step back in order to look at him properly. She had expected to see someone looking for the loo or something, but instead standing before her was an 8ft tall man. His dark hair and beard were wiry and out of control, and he was wearing a large moleskin coat. The man, if that is what it was, looked down at her brightly.

"'Ope Win'ers?" he said in a strong accent. She stared at him for a second or two before realising that he had in fact said her name. She shook her head to get herself out of her shock like trance.

"Oh! Yes! That's me!" she said, a little brighter than she had intended, but it seemed to have gone unnoticed.

"'Ello!" the man said, grinning broadly. "The name's Hagrid." Hope stared at him, was that supposed to mean something to her? She suddenly felt very silly, and looked down at her feet and shuffled them. The man named Hagrid saw this, and laughed. Hope looked back up at him, bewildered. "I'm a friend of your Godfathers!" he exclaimed, and immediately Hope smiled up at the man.

"Oh! Hello!" she said, "I'm sorry, but I didn't know who you were!" She felt the heat in her cheeks, and knew she must be blushing furiously.

"S'quite alrigh'. I'm 'ere to show you how to get on ter the platform. Dumbledore thought you might have a little problem with that," he said, still beaming down at her. Hope laughed softly, before speaking again.

"I was just beginning to panic about it, yes. I'm so glad you're here though! I thought I was going to have to find out by myself!"

Hagrid extended his arm in front of him, beckoning her to walk in that direction. She smiled gratefully at him and pushed her trolley through the large crowds of people.

Harry squirmed uncomfortably in the back of the ministry car. Enlarged they might well have been, but that didn't mean they weren't cramped. After all, there were four trunks, four tired and disgruntled teenagers, two large owl cages, two smaller cages for Crookshanks and Arnold the pygmy puff and one very harassed looking Mrs. Weasley in the back of this one on this September morning.

He stared out of the window of the car, watching as the other cars zoomed past him. As he watched them, his thoughts began to drift, and soon he was lost in them.

He was thinking of a great deal of things, but mostly his return to Hogwarts. This was going to be his last trip to Hogwarts, his last year. He wondered idly what he would do without the place he had called home for seven long years. Instead of his usual feeling of excitement at returning to Hogwarts, Harry felt saddened at the fact that he would not be able to return to Hogwarts again after this. At least not as a student, and he wasn't sure whether it would be as good returning as a guest or a teacher. Speaking of teachers, what would he do after he graduated from Hogwarts this year? Would he go into full combat mode in order to kill old Voldy, or would he try and make a career for himself, maybe even a life?

He wondered what career he would pursue after Hogwarts, he had always wanted to be an Auror, but he was not sure if he would obtain the grades he needed in his N.E.W.T.S., if he even took them, to reach his goal. He thought about what it would be like to be an Auror, catching dark wizard's everyday.

He thought about what Ron and Hermione would be. He smiled when he thought of them happy in jobs and the lives that he knew they would make for themselves after school. He pictured Hermione working as a Healer in St Mungos, or maybe owning her own bookshop, or maybe Hermione would come back to Hogwarts as a teacher. She was, after all, able to teach their current teachers a thing or two most of the time. What would Ron do? He smiled even wider as he imagined Ron living his dream, playing keeper for the Chudley Cannons. Or maybe Ron would do something else, something at the ministry? He might go and work with Fred and George, or he might finally realise that he was a good journalist. Unknown to Ron, Harry had read the many reports Ron had written on the goings on at Hogwarts, he was really very good at writing. Harry wondered vaguely if he should mention this to Ron, but he didn't know how Ron would take it, so pushed the thought to the back of his mind for the time being.

His thoughts took a predictable turn towards wondering whether or not he would even live to make a life for himself. He loved the idea of Ron and Hermione making wonderful lives for themselves, but he had to wonder if he would make it through this second war to be a part of those lives. He had tried not to think about this over the summer, but somehow the thought kept creeping into the back of his mind, sneaking up on him when he least expected it. He didn't want to think that he wouldn't be there when they had their children, or when they got promoted, or when they got married; he wanted to believe that he would be there, that he could survive this and have all of those things for his own. But rational thought interrupted his wishful thinking and something just told him that he wasn't going to be able to make it.

He sighed in frustration, and ran his hand through his hair before resting his forehead upon it. He felt the comforting feeling of Ron's hand on his shoulder, silently giving him reassurance that whatever he was thinking about would be okay. Not that Ron didn't know what Harry was talking about anyway, it was strange really, the connection they had with each other. Harry looked up at Ron and smiled gratefully.

He surveyed the man Ron had grown into. Gone was the long and gangly 11 year old he had met on Platform 9 ¾, instead sitting beside him was a tall, but well filled out man, with flaming red hair and bright blue eyes. He smiled when he thought of how far Ron had come to be the person he was today, he had accomplished so much within himself, and Harry laughed softly when he thought of how much he had contributed to that.

He was drawn from his thoughts of Ron however, by warmth on his knee. He turned his head to find Hermione leaning over from her seat opposite him, placing her hand reassuringly on his knee, telling him, like Ron, that everything would be okay. His connection with Hermione was so similar to that of Ron; only Hermione seemed to be able to tell what Harry was feeling too. She knew when he needed left alone, when he needed a hug, when he needed to talk and when he just needed someone to yell at. He couldn't be more grateful for her and all she had done for him over the years. He sat back in his seat to survey, just as he had done with Ron moments before, the woman she had become.

Just as with Ron, gone was the 11 year old girl he had met on the train 7 years ago. Instead, sitting before him was a beautiful woman, and an incredible person. She had filled out nicely in her teenage years; she had grown taller, but was nowhere near as tall as the boys. Her hair had tamed itself over the years, and now hung in curls around her face. He smiled again as he thought of all the things she had done in her years of friendship with him. Her silly tendency to panic and think like a muggle under pressure, her incessant badgering of the boys to do their homework and then giving in and helping them with it anyway, the look on her face when she gained house points, the glint in her eyes when she learnt something new. Harry wondered idly again, what he would have done without her all these years. He would have for sure failed every single one of his OWL's and probably would have been thrown out the school long ago. He truly appreciated her and everything she did for him.

The taxi ground to a halt at the front entrance to Kings Cross Station, and Harry suddenly felt like he should prolong these moments as long as he could. For every moment that passed, meant that he was a moment closer to leaving the place he had ever been able to feel safe, accepted and like a true person.

He heaved his trunk onto his trolley and pushed it into the station, smiling at the familiar sight of the barrier just between Platforms 9 and 10. He looked around himself, looking to see if there was anyone else on their way to go through the barrier, when he spotted his classmate Neville.

Neville was a clumsy boy in Harry's year, but he was kind hearted and loyal.

"Heya, Neville, have a nice summer?" he asked Neville brightly. Neville obviously was lost in thought and had not noticed him, for he jumped a mile when Harry spoke, knocking Trevor the toad's box over. Harry laughed as he bent down to help Neville retrieve the toad.

"Hey Harry, Hermione, Ron," said Neville, rather gloomily. "It was brilliant until a few days ago. Did you hear anything about You-Know-You killing that couple in Dorset the other day?" he asked, looking at each of them in turn. They shook their heads; Hermione had stopped receiving the Daily Prophet over the summer, claiming that it had become more of a tabloid than a newspaper. Harry and Ron never did bother with it anyway. "Well," continued Neville, "The Winters' family lived just round the corner from me, and it was awful to hear that they had been killed. Of course, not all of the family was killed; they left the daughter, Hope. She was a good friend of mine, but after her parents were murdered they whisked her off and I don't know where she's gone. I'm worried about her." Hermione walked up to Neville and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder, Neville sighed deeply.

"Don't worry Neville, if Voldemort's been killing people the Order will know all the details. I'm sure professor McGonagall will be able to tell us where she's gone once we get to the school," she said, still patting Neville on the shoulder. Neville's face lifted slightly, but he still looked miserable.

"C'mon you lot, let's get through the barrier or we wont get our usual compartment," said Ron as he pushed his trolley towards the barrier and walked straight through it.

Hope followed behind Hagrid nervously through Kings Cross, often having to run to keep up with him. Drat her small legs!

He came to an abrupt halt, staring at the wall between Platforms 9 and 10. She peered round His large form, and copied him in staring at the wall. After a few moments silence, Hagrid seem to realise that he had just been staring at the blank wall.

"Sorry abou' tha'!" he said gruffly, "I were jus' remembrin' the las' time I used this gateway for meself is all!" Hope noticed there was a tear in his eye, and was on the verge of saying something to him about it, but decided against it.

Hagrid turned round and began to search the crowd, obviously looking for someone within it. Hope, being too small to see above everyone's head, simple stood and waited. She looked down at her belongings and grinned broadly, thinking of where she was about to go. She looked up quickly to the clock on the footbridge across the train lines, and was relieved to find she was half an hour early for the train.

"Well, there's a first for everything I suppose," she said quietly to herself. She was well known for having no sense of time.

She looked back up at Hagrid, and saw him waving enthusiastically at someone. He really did seem quite pleased to meet them, and she wanted to know who they were too, especially if they got her away from this spot by the wall, she was beginning to feel uncomfortable being stared at by every passing person.

"Err... Hagrid?" she asked uncertainly, "Wh-who are you waving at?"

At that moment, three people emerged from the crowd into their spot. Hope looked at them, and was heartened by their appearance. There was one girl, and two boys who were very obviously twins. Each of them had fiery red hair and freckles. They looked at her, at first, with puzzled expressions, then comprehension dawned on their faces and they smiled at Hope.

"Hey there, I'm Ginny," said the girl, waving a little, "and these two are my brothers-" but the two guys cut her off, lunging themselves forwards and holding out their hands. She shook the one closest to her, and he beamed.

"He's Fred," said the one she had shook hands with. She turned to the other and shook his hand too.

"And he's George, we're just here seeing our ickle sister off to Hogwarts," he said, positively beaming as he ruffled Ginny's hair affectionately. Ginny, in contrast, did not look happy about this at all.

"Hey," said Hope, a lot quieter than she would have normally greeted anyone.

The girl called Ginny grabbed the collars of her brothers' clothes and pulled them sharply back. "Now, now, boys. Calm yourselves, I'm not sure if she's ready for you two yet." She said playfully, and then smiled at Hope. "C'mon," she said brightly, "Lets get through the barrier before they try any of their stuff on you with all these muggles around."

It was the second time Hope had heard someone say 'barrier', and she was still unsure as to what the hell they were talking about. Just then, Ginny had grabbed her arm, pulling her and her trolley straight towards the solid wall between platforms 9 and 10.

"Ginny? What the hell are you doing? That's a _solid_ wall!" Hope shouted. Okay, she had to admit it, she had panicked. But Ginny was about to crash her headfirst into a wall! Ginny let go of her arm and twirled round to look at Hope, an impatient look on her face.

"What?" she asked, clearly annoyed and Hope. Hope looked down at her feet and shuffled them, very embarrassed. She looked back up at Ginny through her fringe, hoping that Ginny's female instinct would be able to translate it. Ginny's face softened almost immediately upon seeing Hope's look. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I thought you knew about the barrier!" She laughed softly, and suddenly felt quite inferior to Ginny, and she felt as if Ginny liked it. "This, Hope, is the magical barrier to get on to Platform 9 ¾. You just need to walk at this wall, confident that you will not crash into it and you will emerge on the other side. It's easy!" Ginny looked at Hope, and noticing the still uncertain look on Hope's face, she motioned to the twins to go through, to show her.

Hope watched intently as the boys walked casually towards the barrier and instead of crashing into it, as she was convinced they would, they simply disappeared from sight. Hope smiled and relaxed, realising with full force just how much she had missed of the magical world while she was at home, instead of here learning with the rest of these kids.

Ginny inclined her head in silent question, and Hope nodded. Ginny smiled and motioned for Hope to go through before her.

Hope swallowed hard, and concentrated hard on believing that she was not going to crash into the wall. She lined up herself and trolley with the wall, and began to walk quickly. She closed her eyes as she approached the wall, waiting for the imminent crash. But it didn't come, she kept on walking and when she opened her eyes she saw the greatest sight she had ever set eyes upon. A brilliant scarlet steam train, steam billowing from it. She smiled broadly as Ginny came through the barrier behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hope, meet the Hogwarts Express."

Harry was sitting with his feet up on the seat opposite him, staring out of the train window as it hurtled past fields and lakes and hills in the English countryside. He yawned widely and his eyes drooped. He shuffled slightly to the side so that his head could rest on the soft backrest of his seat. Just as he was about to drift off into a very welcomed sleep, Hermione elbowed him in the side. He jerked upright, thoroughly annoyed.

"Hermione, I swear I have a permanent bruise exactly the size and shape of your elbow in my side from the stupidly large amount of times you have done that. What the hell is so important that you had to wake me up?" he asked, boring his eyes into hers, making sure she understood fully how annoyed he was.

"There's no need to look at me like that, Harry," she said quietly, and Harry immediately felt guilty. He sighed heavily and mumbled a "sorry", shifting his gaze to his feet. "C'mon, Harry, you have a prefect meeting to go to," said Hermione, giving him her usual 'be more responsible look', oh how he _hated_ that look. He quickly looked over to Ron, looking for sympathy. Ron however, just shrugged his shoulders at him.

"What do you want me to do about it? I'm a prefect; I've got to go too."

Harry sighed in defeat and quickly changed his into his robes before exiting the compartment with the other two. They walked down the crowded corridor towards the prefects' carriage. Harry realised all at once that he had no idea what he was supposed to do at this meeting. He hoped to high heavens that Hermione had everything planned out, and he would only have to agree.

Hermione and Ron opened the door to a very large, very handsomely decorated compartment at the very front of the train. Harry stared around himself, almost in awe. Almost.

The four walls of the compartment were decorated with the four colours and crests of the Hogwarts houses. He felt soft and deep piled carpet beneath his feet and looked down to inspect it. In the middle of the room, the carpet was embroidered with the Hogwarts crest. Harry smiled as he looked at it. Anything with that crest on it was guaranteed to make him smile, no matter the situation.

Placed in a semi circle around a two-person podium, were straight backed chairs, with four different coloured seat cushions. There were 6 chairs of each colour, which he guessed were to indicate where the different house prefects should sit.

Hermione walked confidently towards a small chest at the side of the room, and beckoned Harry over to her. He walked over to her nervously, not rally sure what was going on. Apparently, his nervousness was very evident on his face, for Hermione laughed softly when she looked up at him, before saying,

"Oh, Harry, calm down for goodness sake. You don't need to say anything, I'll do it all. You just need to introduce yourself." She rolled her eyes bit too obviously for Harry's liking, he frowned. "Harry, I had no doubt in my mind that you didn't know what went on in prefect's meetings, and everyone else knows that too. So never fear, Hermione came to the rescues again," she winked at him, and he smiled, "Now c'mon, the sooner this is over the sooner you can sleep."

The meeting was interesting for Harry. He had never been to one before, and was intrigued as to what the prefects had to do and what they talked about. As it turns out, not much more than what Harry had imagined. They talked about rounds, handed out rounds timetables, and discussed when their monthly meetings should be. It wasn't until closer the end that Hermione asked Harry to introduce himself. Harry found this entirely pointless, because he was very certain that everyone in the compartment knew exactly who he was, but he relented and did what he was told despite himself. By the end of it, he was very much looking forward to getting back to his other compartment for a nice sleep.

Harry, Ron and Hermione winded their way through the still thick crowd in the corridor. Harry was trying his best to ignore the stares he was receiving. He found it amazing, that even after seven years in the wizarding world; they still found him to be pointed at and whispered about.

He passed a group of annoyingly obvious second years, who pointed and whispered in loud voices as he approached. Harry turned his head in frustration, trying to exclude them from his line of vision, when his heart stopped in his chest. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, he couldn't _think._

He took a large gulp of air and came back to his senses when Ron nudged him in the back. He shook his head violently, trying to make his brain work again.

_Here. She's here. The girl, she's here! At Hogwarts! _He thought, and immediately smiled broadly, _Oh, there is a God!_

Hope could not stop smiling as she clambered aboard the brilliant scarlet steam train. She tried as desperately as she could to take in every detail of everything around her, from the cats winding their way through her legs on the platform, to the loud babble of noise from the massive amount of people there, even just the smell of the steam billowing out from the engine.

As she climbed aboard the train, Ginny placed a hand on her shoulder and, smiling broadly, said in a bright voice, "Right then, Miss Winters! Let's find you a compartment shall we?" Hope smiled her reply, and Ginny motioned for her to carry on down the corridor.

They eventually found a compartment containing only one other person. A small girl with large blue eyes and long straggly blonde hair. She was reading a magazine, apparently absorbed by what it was saying; for she did not look up when Ginny slid open the compartment door, nor when Hope noisily heaved her trunk into the compartment. In fact, she did not seem to even realise there was anyone else in the compartment at all. Hope turned to Ginny with a quizzical look on her face, Ginny rolled her eyes and Hope fully understood. Clearly this girl was not one known for being normal. Ginny sat down opposite the girl and said loudly, "Hey Luna, have a nice summer?"

The girl jumped in surprise and looked up from her magazine, her wide eyes surveying the scene in front of her. She smiled lopsidedly, and her wide eyes immediately took on a dreamy look.

"Hello Ginny," she said in a dreamy voice that exactly matched her eyes, "oh yes, my summer was most enjoyable. Daddy and I went looking for crumple-horned snorkacks." She smiled lopsidedly again, and Hope looked at Ginny. She laughed inwardly at the look on Ginny's face; she was obviously trying to stifle laughter.

"Oh that sounds," She paused, the stifled laughter still evident on her face,"…wonderful, Luna." Ginny looked round to Hope, who had sat down on a seat near the compartment door during their conversation. She rolled her eyes obviously, and Hope giggled slightly.

"Luna," said Ginny in an announcing sort of tone, "This is Hope Winters. She's joining Hogwarts this year." Luna lifted her head from her magazine again and surveyed Hope with her dreamy gaze.

"Hello," she said, "Have you moved here in fear of the Rotfang conspiracy? I heard the Aurors have been spreading their ideals to many ordinary wizards," said Luna in a casual tone. Hope began to laugh, but was luckily able to cover it up as a violent sneeze.

"Oh, no," said Hope, using every morsel of effort she had not to laugh, "I haven't moved here because of that. Don't worry." Luna smiled brightly at her reply.

"Well that's okay then."

Ginny looked to Hope and winked, giving her thumbs up.

"Okay," said Ginny, "I've got to go and find some people I need to speak with. I will leave you two to get acquainted." She said a smirk on her lips. She got up and silkily walked over the door compartment door, opening it. She turned round just as she was about to close the door and said in a tone Hope wasn't sure she liked, "Have fun."

Hope sat there, bewildered. The girl, Luna, had gone back to her magazine, apparently unaware yet again that there was anyone else in the compartment with her. Hope sighed and moved seats to be beside the window, and watched as the fields, lakes and hills of the English countryside flashed past her window.

After a short while, Hope heard a faint snoring sound and looked up to find Luna slumped against her seat, fast asleep. Hope smiled, noting how peaceful she looked. She looked around the compartment, taking in her surroundings. She had not had the chance to really take it in since her arrival, and her introduction to Luna.

She looked out of the window of the compartment door upon hearing giggling and loud whispering, wondering what all the commotion was, when her heart stopped.

She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move, she couldn't do _anything_.

It was Harry, there, at the compartment door! And he was looking in to the compartment, looking in at _her_. _Staring_ at her.

Ron shoved him again, and Harry spun round to face him. He didn't have time to clear his emotions from his face.

"Whoa, mate, are you okay?" asked Ron, looking at him nervously. Hermione poked her head over Ron's shoulder to get a better look at him. Harry glanced at her, and her face was full of concern for him.

"It's…" he stammered, looking quickly from Ron to Hermione again.

"Go on Harry, what is it?" said Hermione kindly. Harry took another gulp of air, trying to compose himself.

"It's her. The girl. In that compartment with Luna. NO DON'T LOOK!" added Harry as Ron made a move to peer over Harry's shoulder and into the compartment. Ron looked slightly miffed as he retreated from his effort. "C'mon," said Harry quickly, "Let's get away from here." Before they could reply, Harry had stalked off down the corridor towards their previous compartment.

Hope was breathing heavily.

_He was looking in the compartment. Looking at me. _Staring_ at me!_

She took a few large gulps of air, trying to get her breathing rate back to normal. She began to feel light headed and sick. She stuck her head between her knees and started to breathe deeply.

_C'mon Hope, you're better than this! Stop being so stupid!_

She took one last deep breathe and raised her head again. She looked anxiously over at Luna; surely her hyperventilating episode would have stirred her? But no, apparently not. Luna's head was now resting on her chest, her soft snoring un-interrupted.

Hope looked out of the window, trying to gather her thoughts. She'd almost forgotten about Harry in all the excitement of Hogwarts. She sighed as she thought back to last night, how he had sat and listened to her song. He had said it was "indescribable", but then he had run away! Why had he run away?

She thought back to the glimpse of his face she had gotten while he had whispered, loud enough for only her to hear what he had thought of her song. She could picture vividly the tears streaming down his soft, pale face. The thought of it made her stomach to back flips, had it been her song that had done that?

And if it was her song that had made him cry, then why had it done that? That song was written about her losing her parents, it was specific only to her, yet he had obviously been touched by it if he was crying. Maybe he had lost his parents too? Maybe he felt touched by the song because he was in exactly the same position as her. Maybe she wasn't as alone as she might have thought.

And then it hit her. It hit her like a tonne of bricks falling from the sky. She cursed herself for not realising it before. The ebony hair, the sparkling green eyes, _the scar. _He had been touched by the song because he _had_ lost his parents; he had lost his parents for _exactly_ the same reason as she had. Harry, the boy from the house, the boy who had filled her thoughts since the moment she had seen him, wasn't just any old Harry. He was _Harry Potter!_

_Oh God, I fancy Harry Potter! Oh well done Hope, you sure know how to pick 'em don't you? Like he's every going to even look your direction, he's Harry Potter for flip sake! Give up now, before it's too late._

She sighed heavily, and wondered why she hadn't realised before. It had been so obvious! She reasoned with herself however, that being tutored at home meant that her parents could easily have screened everything she came in contact with. Consequently, she very rarely heard any of the headline news. The only things she new of Harry Potter were from the books she had read.

She leant back in her seat again and looked out the window. Looming on the horizon was a picture perfect scene. A magnificent castle on a mountainside, lights illuminating its many windows. Her heart lifted, and she quickly roused Luna so that they could change into their robes for school.

Harry slumped down onto the seat in the compartment, Hermione and Ron sat tentatively opposite him, watching him closely but nervously. Harry's mind was buzzing with thoughts, and there was silence for a long time. Hermione was the bravest of them to break the silence.

"Harry? That was her, wasn't it?" she asked, timidly. Harry simply nodded. The Hermione did something that he was not expecting at all. She slapped him hard across the face. "YOU ARE THE BIGGEST PRAT I'VE EVER MET IN MY ENTIRE LIFE, HARRY! SHE WAS SITTING RIGHT THERE, IN THAT COMPARTMENT AND YOU RAN AWAY! YOU GREAT BIG STUPID COWARD!" She was breathing heavily from having shouted so much. Harry stared at her, in bewilderment before coming to his senses. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"I don't know! I panicked and I need to get out of there! She does something to me, I freeze up and get all weird and I can't think, I can't breathe, I can't move. She's amazing, and I don't even know her!" He looked up at them, the helplessness poring from his deep emerald pools.

"You got it bad, mate, you got it real bad," said Ron in disbelief.


End file.
